And I'm walking,
I'm departing
toward a sky that's glowing red
and there's a thousand different poems
being tossed around my head.
And with every beat I measure
and with every word I rhyme
I'm trying hard to question answers
and keep my thoughts outside the lines.
Yes, I am leaving
I am running
toward a home that's really home
filled with simile and imagery
where my words can be alone,
and it is cold there,
it is frozen,
but the cold is fit for me
because my heart is like the tundra
and my blood is like the sea.
and now my lungs are filling up
with the sunset up ahead
and it's distorting all the pictures
that I've drawn up in my head.
But believe me, love
I'm going
and I don't think I'll return
so all my money, you can pocket
and all my poems, you can burn.
Because my old words now pursue me
and they nibble at my heels,
because I've succumbed to plagiary,
those three words I did steal.
So call me convict
call me criminal
fleeing from the law
leaving verses on the sidewalks
scratching with my inky claws
So if you find me
where I'm hiding
bring a bottle of something strong
because home is where the heart is,
and in my heart I don't belong.